7.Used Car Sales People
With the gift of the gab they would talk their way out of hell
These used car sales people they know how to sell
On their selling ability their jobs are at stake
The more cars they do sell the more commission they do make read more »

Francis Duggan
8.The 'Poem A Day' Project ~ Day 234
I’m a happy dog in a car
Hope we’re not going far
I walk up and down the back seat
At each corner I’m rocked off my feet read more »

Flying Lemming

6.***** Car
What smoke, that is choking us
The people ask, nobody knows what it is
An old car that is honking
With tricycle tires and a motor that is backwards read more »

Mercedes Zoller

3.Cars
Cars
Almost everybody has one, but what little thought we give them.
We drive our cars to work and school but even then we don't give our cars much thought.
You go from one exteme to the other, one guy might pay about $20,000 for a car, while another may pay $150,000 for a car. read more »

Sean Bitikofer
4.Rocket Race Car
I was born for driven dirt race car's
I'm not made for pavin long roads
I ain't cut out to climb high line poles
But I'm pretty good at driven my race car's read more »

chester wellborn
5.Happy Dog 2
I’m a happy dog in a car
Hope we’re not going far
I walk up and down the back seat
At each corner I’m rocked off my feet read more »

Flying Lemming
6.***** Car
What smoke, that is choking us
The people ask, nobody knows what it is
An old car that is honking
With tricycle tires and a motor that is backwards read more »

Mercedes Zoller

1.A car is just a car!
A car is a car
If it can ride you nearby or far

A car is a car read more »

Sylvia Chidi
2.Car is here
Car is here and I am in the car
Car is here and car is within me
Car is useless if I left the car
Car is here and I am going and coming. read more »

gajanan mishra

13.Travel Haiku - Harbour Island (Eleuthera, Caribbean)
Pink Sand Beach yoga
on and on I chant with the sea
seeking nirvana read more »

john tiong chunghoo
14.I Am The Beach...
As we walked along the beach, crashing waves
thundered in our ears and a light, salted mist,
dampened our lips. read more »

(brief renderings) Joe Fazio
15.The Power Of The Beach
As we walked along the beach, crashing waves
thundered in our ears and a light, salted mist,
dampened our lips. read more »

(brief renderings) Joe Fazio
16.Under A Blanket Of Stars
As we walked along the beach, crashing waves
thundered in our ears and a light, salted mist,
dampened our lips. read more »

(brief renderings) Joe Fazio
17.Under A Blanket Of Stars...
As we walked along the beach, crashing waves
thundered in our ears and a light, salted mist,
dampened our lips. read more »

(brief renderings) Joe Fazio
18.ON A ROCKY BEACH
read more »

Aldo Kraas
19.Travel Indonesia Haiku - Batam Beach View Resort
Batam Beach View Resort
holding up the sky
the bull horn chalets read more »

john tiong chunghoo
20.On This Beach...
Life is a beach.
There are jellyfish. And sea urchins…the painful bumps along the road that we all encounter in life. On this beach.
In life..and on a beach there is warm water-like times, when we are happy, and have good times and enjoy living. On this beach.
We also have times, like a beach, when we have cold water times; when we are sad, or upset about losing someone or something. On this beach. read more »

Dark Fallout
21.Somewhere
Oh, to be lying,
On a beach,
Somewhere,
With sand in my toes, read more »

Linda Harnett
22.beach
BEACH

On the beach, egrets sleep, peacefully curled together.
Waves roaring and waves wildness wipe on the beach. read more »

Darryl K. Porter
23.HERE
I am here,
Sitting on the beach
Viewing the wave
Rolling up your name read more »

nice pinky
24.Shell in the Beach
a mother tells a story to her son
'there are three men
one of them went to the beach
and found a beautiful shell in the beach read more »

9.Show It At The Beach
Oh they won't let us show it at the beach no they won't let us show it at the beach
They think we're gonna grab it if it gets within our reach read more »

Sheldon Allan Silverstein
10.the sea
when you're at the beach you might see
surfers riding out to sea

when you're at the beach you might see read more »

Matthew Smi
11.Santa Monica Mountains..Kanan Dume
Santa Monica Mountains....Kanan Dume
There...in the distance...and one day soon
.......I'll be on the beach....at Malibu read more »

James B. Earley
12.At the Beach
At The Beach

You roll down the window
And even before you see it read more »

Khalid Icanttellyou

7.Beach Chairs
Sitting on the beach chairs
watching the setting sun
holding hands and reminiscing
how it all begun read more »

joyce ebrecht
8.SO CLOSE
We are so close to the beach
And because we live so close
To the beach
It take us only ten minutes to read more »

Aldo Kraas

6.Happy Dog
I’m a happy dog at the beach
If I had the power of speech
I would tell you all
To throw my ball read more »

Flying Lemming

5.Down to the beach
Down to the beach
Down to the beach
On a sunny day we go read more »

Sylvia Chidi

4.Beached Upon Shore
Beached beached
beached we are all
surely beached
upon the shores of life. read more »

Wayne Falconer

2.On The Winter Beach
On The Winter Beach

I walk on the winter beach
from here to there read more »

Suchoon Mo_

1.X..... Amazing Dance
the wavy hard sand
was massaging my feet
when a startled crab
in the shallow sea read more »

Aufie Zophy

181 to 200 of 3251 Poets
«891011»Viewsshow detailshide detailsSort by  
Joelle Biele

To Katharine: At Fourteen Months
Veronica Patterson

Marry Me
Rick Campbell

Heart
Mary-Sherman Willis

The Laughter of Women
Sharmila Voorakkara

For the Tattooed Man
Max Mendelsohn

Ode to Marbles
Jonathan Holden

Car Showroom
David Tucker

The Dancer
Today’s News
Marianne Boruch (b. 1950)

It includes the butterfly and the rat, the ****
Some dreamily smoke cigarettes, some track
Trish Dugger

Spare Parts
Carrie Shipers

Medical History
Love Poem for Ted Neeley In Jesus Christ Superstar
Steven Huff

Safe
Lee McCarthy

Santa Paula
William Kloefkorn

"I stand alone at the foot "
Jackson Wheeler

How Good Fortune Surprises Us
Steven Orlen (1942–2010)

Three Teenage Girls: 1956
In the House of the Voice of Maria Callas
Steven Schneider

Chanukah Lights Tonight
Jessy Randall

Superhero Pregnant Woman
Anne Pierson Wiese (b. 1964)

Inscrutable Twist
Columbus Park
Regina DeSalva

Snip Your Hair
«891011»

161 to 180 of 3251 Poets
«78910»Viewsshow detailshide detailsSort by  
Margaret Kaufman

Photo, Brownie Troop, St. Louis, 1949
Deborah Warren

Marginalia
Regan Huff

Occurrence on Washburn Avenue
Anne Marie Macari

From the Plane
Gerald Fleming

There are no poems by this poet on our website.
Sebastian Matthews

Barbershop Quartet, East Village Grille
Charles Harper Webb

The Animals are Leaving
Zozan Hawez

Self-Portrait
Jose Angel Araguz

Gloves
Russell Libby (1956–2012)

Applied Geometry
Robert Haight

How Is It That the Snow
Early October Snow
Dan Lechay

Ghost Villanelle
James P. Lenfestey

Daughter
Robert Hedin (b. 1949)

The Old Liberators
My Mother's Hats
John Maloney

After Work
Kaelum Poulson

The Crow
Stuart Kestenbaum

Prayer for the Dead
Emmett Tenorio Melendez

My name came from . . .
Gary Dop

Father, Child, Water
On Swearing
Berwyn Moore

Driving to Camp Lend-A-Hand
«78910»

141 to 160 of 3251 Poets
«6789»Viewsshow detailshide detailsSort by  
Mariposa

There are no poems by this poet on our website.
Lidia Torres

There are no poems by this poet on our website.
Cecilia Vicuña

There are no poems by this poet on our website.
Jack Agüeros

There are no poems by this poet on our website.
Jessica Hagedorn

There are no poems by this poet on our website.
Tan Lin

There are no poems by this poet on our website.
Sally Wen Mao

There are no poems by this poet on our website.
Patrick Rosal

There are no poems by this poet on our website.
Jeffrey Yang

There are no poems by this poet on our website.
Rachel Contreni Flynn

The Yellow Bowl
Dana Bisignani

Bankruptcy Hearing
Gary Metras

Lint
Jeff Worley

On Finding a Turtle Shell in Daniel Boone National Forest
Lucille Lang Day

Tooth Painter
Nancyrose Houston

The Letter From Home
Lyn Lifshin

The Other Fathers
Joette Giorgis

(Untitled)
Tim Nolan

At the Choral Concert
Picasso
Kathy Mangan

The Whistle
Michelle Bennett

Western
«6789»

121 to 140 of 3251 Poets
«5678»Viewsshow detailshide detailsSort by  
Michael Fried

There are no poems by this poet on our website.
Julia de Burgos

There are no poems by this poet on our website.
Keith Waldrop (b. 1932)

Shipwreck in Haven, Part Four
“Majesty”
Susan Hahn

Anthem
Alice Lyons

Developers
The Boom and After the Boom
Walt Whitman (1819–1892)

When I Heard the Learn’d Astronomer
Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking
Kazim Ali (b. 1971)

Ramadan
Speech
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807–1882)

Aftermath
Hymn to the Night
Sharon Olds (b. 1942)

I Could Not Tell
Chamber Thicket
Billy Collins (b. 1941)

Silence
Reading an Anthology of Chinese Poems of the Sung Dynasty, I Pause To Admire the Length and Clarity of Their Titles
Corina Copp

There are no poems by this poet on our website.
Dorothea Grossman (1937–2012)

I have to tell you
For Allen Ginsberg
Bridget Lowe

There are no poems by this poet on our website.
Diane Burns

There are no poems by this poet on our website.
Beth Brant

There are no poems by this poet on our website.
Terrance Hayes (b. 1971)

Stick Elegy
Cocktails with Orpheus
Ann Taylor (1782–1866)

The Baby's Dance
The Cut
Chrystos

There are no poems by this poet on our website.
Amit Majmudar (b. 1979)

The Miscarriage
Instructions to an Artisan
Linda Rodriguez

There are no poems by this poet on our website.
«5678»

101–120 of 11462 Poems
«4567»Viewsshow detailshide detailsSort by  
What I Eat is a Prayer
BY JOYELLE MCSWEENEY
Then in the August of my twenty-seventh year,
naked except for my seaclogs,
I greeted an audience of piers. . . .
Bureau of
BY JOYELLE MCSWEENEY
This is the body of,
waiting to turn on.
. . .
The Siren
BY JOYELLE MCSWEENEY
The puppy must be learned of all this material.
No map of the hospital. First, the war effort.
Then, the war itself. The water makes and remakes . . .
Hotel
BY PHILIP NIKOLAYEV
Time to recount the sparrows of the air.
Seated alone on an elected stair,
I stare as they appear and disappear. . . .
Tendency toward Vagrancy
BY PHILIP NIKOLAYEV
I’ve long had what Soviet psychiatrists
called “a tendency toward vagrancy.”
At four I would run away from home . . .
Survey
BY DONALD REVELL
I am so lonely for the twentieth century,
for the deeply felt, obscene graffiti
of armed men and the beautiful bridges . . .
My Factless Autobiography
BY ALLI WARREN
I arise around survival of the event
as worse than the event
The whole place surrounds the smell . . .
Apple Blossoms
BY SUSAN KELLY-DEWITT
One evening in winter
when nothing has been enough,
when the days are too short, . . .
Brasil
BY FARNOOSH FATHI
Left a hole on fire agony or was it the sun
on the banks and near duets?
Eagles with the white wine of the sun . . .
Honey/Manila Portfolio
BY FARNOOSH FATHI
This is not a book. Otherwise, by now
We would love each other.
You would not put me first, . . .
Two Hear Cicadas
BY FARNOOSH FATHI
BEEF: We are here between trees,
with the tempo of a rosary being strung
in a queue of escalating beads— . . .
Memory
BY FARNOOSH FATHI
Over the night a bull
Whispers into a coal
. . .
To the Censorious Ones
BY ANNE WALDMAN
I'm coming up out of the tomb, Men of War
Just when you thought you had me down, in place, hidden
I'm coming up now
Can you feel the ground rumble under your feet?
It's breaking apart, it's turning over, it's pushing up
It's thrusting into your point of view, your private property
O . . .
Beastgardens
BY LUCY IVES
first garden

Beastgarden. . . .
Early Poem
BY LUCY IVES
The first sentence is a sentence about writing. The second sentence tells you it's alright to lose interest. You might be one of those people who sits back in his or her chair without interest, and this would have been the third sentence you would have read. The fourth sentence, what does . . .
Black Swan
BY STEPHANIE YOUNG
After the second conference, I would be cast in the role of a young dancer with a prestigious New York City ballet company. I would be cast in the role of the mother, a former dancer now amateur artist, whose career ended at 28 when she became pregnant. I would be cast in the role of the . . .
Essay
BY STEPHANIE YOUNG
I guess it's too late to live on the farm

I guess it's too late to enter the darkened room in which a single light . . .
A Practice Known as Churning
BY ALLI WARREN
I went to the city some days
to learn my master's pleasure
& laid fort at the farthest place . . .
The Help I Need Is Not Available Here
BY ALLI WARREN
I need help with long term hope
I need help with the dawn
of war and achieving . . .
All My Activities Are Feeding Activities
BY ALLI WARREN
Dear Commissioner
here are my directive accounts
of genitals and cash . . .
«4567»

81–100 of 11462 Poems
«3456»Viewsshow detailshide detailsSort by  
From “The Sonnagrams”
BY K. SILEM MOHAMMAD
on thoth’s ****
From Sonnet 75 (“So are you to my thoughts as food to life”)


A groovy day, a fish fillet, an elf hair, . . .
Homer
BY TROY JOLLIMORE
Schliemann is outside, digging. He’s not
not calling a ***** a *****.
The stadium where the Greeks once played . . .
Ocean Park #17, 1968: Homage to Diebenkorn
BY LARRY LEVIS
What I remember is a carhop on Pico hurrying
Toward a blue Chevy,
. . .
Per Fumum
BY JAMAAL MAY
My mother became an ornithologist
when the grackle tumbled through barbecue smoke
and fell at her feet. Soon she learned . . .
The Archaeologists
BY JULIA SHIPLEY
found pins
by the millions
while meticulously . . .
The Break
BY FRANZ WRIGHT
Then he stopped
dead on the sidewalk
astounded . . .
The Companions of Odysseus in Hades
BY A. E. STALLINGS
Since we still had a little
Of the rusk left, what fools
To eat, against the rules, . . .
There Are Birds Here
BY JAMAAL MAY
There are birds here,
so many birds here
is what I was trying to say . . .
Twelve Thirty One Nineteen Ninety Nine
BY LARRY LEVIS
First Architect of the jungle & Author of pastel slums,
Patron Saint of rust,
You have become too famous to be read. . . .
Whethering
BY A. E. STALLINGS
The rain is haunted;
I had forgotten.
My children are two hours abed . . .
Make a Law So That the Spine Remembers Wings
BY LARRY LEVIS
So that the truant boy may go steady with the State,
So that in his spine a memory of wings
Will make his shoulders tense & bend . . .
A Midsummer Night’s Stroll
BY PHILIP NIKOLAYEV
I.

I am a man.  I’ve lived alone.  I’ve been  in  love.  I’ve  played  with . . .
[The water was rising...]
BY LYN HEJINIAN
The water was rising, I got up on the bed
Still wearing the Hawaiian shirt he had on yesterday
He used his thoughts to draw a rudimentary circle on the wall . . .
[A straight rain is rare...]
BY LYN HEJINIAN
A straight rain is rare and doors have suspicions
and I hold that names begin histories
and that the last century was a cruel one. I am pretending . . .
[But isn’t midnight intermittent]
BY LYN HEJINIAN
But isn’t midnight intermittent
Or was that just a whispered nine
A snap of blown light low against the flank of a cow . . .
Third Poem for the Catastrophe
BY JOYELLE MCSWEENEY
O
melting rainbow that embrace this roof
O . . .
Dear Fi Jae 2 (Ms. Merongrongrong)
BY JOYELLE MCSWEENEY
Now I know what it is to bite the tongue inside

the mink stole: I do not want . . .
Self Portrait
BY CYNTHIA CRUZ
I did not want my body
Spackled in the world’s
Black beads and broke . . .
Kingdom of Dirt
BY CYNTHIA CRUZ
Soon the ambassadors from the Netherworld
Will begin
. . .
King Prion
BY JOYELLE MCSWEENEY
—Hoooooooo
Lay in an array of pixels
Fat, simulated proteins . . .
«3456»

61–80 of 11462 Poems
«2345»Viewsshow detailshide detailsSort by  
66
BY SUZANNE GARDINIER
I'm used to the emperor's bitterness
I can't find the sweet place unless you make me
. . .
Manuela
BY JUAN DELGADO
She wakes to the odor of sheep,
trying to rub it off her hands.
Dressed up in her native colors, . . .
El Tigre Market
BY JUAN DELGADO
As apparent as the rest, the asphalt cracks
are crowded with yellow weeds, the rust goes
beyond its bleeding color, and the lot's rails, . . .
Peculiar Properties
BY JUAN DELGADO
On my cutting board, I discovered them,
the tiniest of ants, roaming dots of lead.
At first, they were too few to classify, hiding . . .
A Point West of Mount San Bernardino
BY JUAN DELGADO
I.

            By the road she hovers in heat waves, . . .
The Evidence is Everywhere
BY JUAN DELGADO
I.

The Santa Anas, childlike and profound, . . .
45
BY SUZANNE GARDINIER
Wasn't that your cheek against mine last night
Gin Streetlight When somebody loves you Impossible
. . .
Fame is the one that does not stay — (1507)
BY EMILY DICKINSON
Fame is the one that does not stay —
It's occupant must die
Or out of sight of estimate . . .
Now I knew I lost her — (1274)
BY EMILY DICKINSON
Now I knew I lost her —
Not that she was gone —
But Remoteness travelled . . .
Tell all the truth but tell it slant — (1263)
BY EMILY DICKINSON
Tell all the truth but tell it slant —
Success in Circuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight . . .
Crumbling is not an instant's Act (1010)
BY EMILY DICKINSON
Crumbling is not an instant's Act
A fundamental pause
Dilapidation's processes . . .
The Poets light but Lamps — (930)
BY EMILY DICKINSON
The Poets light but Lamps —
Themselves — go out —
The Wicks they stimulate . . .
I would not paint — a picture — (348)
BY EMILY DICKINSON
I would not paint — a picture —
I'd rather be the One
It's bright impossibility . . .
This World is not Conclusion
BY EMILY DICKINSON
This World is not Conclusion.
A Species stands beyond—
Invisible, as Music— . . .
Aubade with Burning City
BY OCEAN VUONG

            Milkflower petals on the street
                                                     like pieces of a girl’s dress. . . .
Listen
Recall the Carousel
BY LAURA KASISCHKE
Recall the carousel. Its round and round.
Its pink lights blinking off and on.
The children’s faces painted garish colors against . . .
Akechi’s Wife
BY FRANZ WRIGHT
On one occasion Yūgen of Ise Province was offering to share, for a night or two, the comforts of his home with me when a distant, 
bemused expression came over his face as though at the recollection of a joke told him earlier that day; then, to a degree I would not have thought possible . . .
Been About
BY NANCE VAN WINCKEL
The rat traps emptied, the grain troughs filled.
The distance between sheep shed
and my own ice-melt dripping on the mat . . .
Listen
Boardinghouse with No Visible Address
BY FRANZ WRIGHT
So, I thought,
as the door was unlocked
and the landlord disappeared (no, . . .
DetoNation
BY OCEAN VUONG
There’s a joke that ends with — huh?
It’s the bomb saying here is your father.
. . .
Listen
«2345»

Consider the Hands that Write this Letter
BY ARACELIS GIRMAY
Consider the hands
that write this letter.
. . .
The Source
BY ***** HOWE
The source
I thought was Arctic
. . .
The Descent
BY ***** HOWE
The descent has deepened
the interior lengthened
. . .

The 8 O'Clock Movie
BY TINO VILLANUEVA
Boston, 1973—Years had passed and I assumed a
Different life when one night, while resting from
Books on Marlborough Street (where things like . . .

The 8 O'Clock Movie
BY TINO VILLANUEVA
Boston, 1973—Years had passed and I assumed a
Different life when one night, while resting from
Books on Marlborough Street (where things like . . .

Fight Scene Beginning
BY TINO VILLANUEVA
Bick Benedict, that is, Rock Hudson in the
Time-clock of the movie, stands up and moves,
Deliberate, toward encounter. He has come out . . .

History of sleep
BY RUSTY MORRISON
The ivy across our back fence tangles gray
into a green evening light.
. . .

Necessities
BY RUSTY MORRISON
In through our bedroom window, the full dawn-scape concusses.
Difficult to sustain sleep's equilibrium of wordlessness.
Naming anything, like stepping barefoot in wet sand up to my ankles. . . .

Duck/Rabbit
BY CHANA BLOCH
What do you remember? When I looked at
his streaky glasses, I wanted
to leave him. And before that? He stole those . . .

Eating Babies
BY CHANA BLOCH

            1
. . .

That Bright Grey Eye
BY HILDA MORLEY
The grey sky, lighter & darker
greys,
            lights between & delicate . . .

Istanbul 1983
BY SHEILA BLACK
In the frozen square, the student asks me if I will
sell him the books from my backpack. He hides them
under his winter coat. Steam rises from the whole . . .

The African Burial Ground
BY YUSEF KOMUNYAKAA
They came as Congo, Guinea, & Angola,
   feet tuned to rhythms of a thumb piano.
      They came to work fields of barley & flax, . . .

The Red Shoes
BY SHEILA BLACK
Someone buried red slippers under the floorboards
and the mice nested in them. The floors splintered no matter

To Juan Doe #234
BY EDUARDO C. CORRAL
I only recognized your hair: short,
neatly combed. Our mother
. . .
Istanbul 1983
BY SHEILA BLACK
In the frozen square, the student asks me if I will
sell him the books from my backpack. He hides them
under his winter coat. Steam rises from the whole . . .

My Brother My Wound
BY NATALIE DIAZ
He was calling in the bulls from the street.
They came like a dark river — 
a blur of chest and hoof —  . . .

Envoy to Palestine
BY YUSEF KOMUNYAKAA
I’ve come to this one grassy hill
in Ramallah, off Tokyo Street,
to place a few red anemones . . .

Second Mouth
BY FRANNY CHOI
Other-lips     whispering     between my legs.
What they called black hole     not-thing
is really packed full of secrets.     A rebel mouth . . .
Listen

It Was the Animals
BY NATALIE DIAZ
Today my brother brought over a piece of the ark
wrapped in a white plastic grocery bag.
. . .

The Talk
BY GAYLE DANLEY
Pretty soon we’ll have the talk.
She’ll ask me where babies come from
And I will lie to her: . . .

To the Man Who Shouted “I Like Pork Fried Rice” at Me on the Street
BY FRANNY CHOI
you want to eat me
out. right. what does it taste like
you want to eat me right out . . .

21–40 of 11462 Poems
«1234»Viewsshow detailshide detailsSort by  
Faith
BY MICHAEL *******br>When I cannot believe,
The brown herds still move across green fields
Into the tufty hills, and I was born . . .
Teusaquillo, 1989
BY MAURICE KILWEIN GUEVARA
Flowering sietecueros trees:
How easily we married ourselves
to the idea of that bruised light . . .
Bright Pittsburgh Morning
BY MAURICE KILWEIN GUEVARA
This must happen just after I die: At sunrise
I bend over my grandparents' empty house in Hazelwood
and pull it out of the soft cindered earth by the Mon River. . . .
Hanukkah
BY HILDA MORLEY
This season for us, the Jews—
a season of candles,
                                      one more . . .
Winter Solstice
BY HILDA MORLEY
A cold night crosses
our path
                  The world appears . . .
And I in My Bed Again
BY HILDA MORLEY
Last night
                     tossed in
my bed . . .
alternate names for black boys
BY DANEZ SMITH
1.   smoke above the burning bush
2.   archnemesis of summer night
3.   first son of soil . . .
Listen
Attenuate the Loss and Find
BY ANNE WALDMAN
name appears
everywhere and in dream
body armor removed . . .
From “Citizen”
BY CLAUDIA RANKINE
/ 

You are in the dark, in the car, watching the black-tarred street being swallowed by speed; he tells you his dean is making him hire a person of color when there are so many great writers out there. . . .
Listen
History Will Decide
BY ANNE WALDMAN
All writing around the sides the persons a galaxy all writing resounds a hot history. All writing is in fact cut-ups history will decide games heated and heated economic behavior. To rise up scene all sounds of Tahrir and inside supply side threatened. A long delineation. Longer than I would . . .
ICC Kenya Trials: Witness
BY SHAILJA PATEL
was it so I could
never say
across a courtroom . . .
Mosaic
BY TIM SEIBLES
A carpet of light, the
ocean alive < half a moon
muting the stars. . . .
sideshow
BY DANEZ SMITH
Have I spent too much time worrying about the boys
killing each other to pray for the ones who do it
with their own hands? . . .
The Last Son of China
BY **** PING
.......................    hello hello hello    ...    Weiwei    ...    where have you been?    ...    I see you in dreams    ...    bleeding    ...    in the darkness of the . . .
The Skin of Sleep
BY MYRA SKLAREW
The skin of sleep
is thin. It will not hold.
Its contents stumble out. . . .
What Could Have Happened
BY SHAILJA PATEL
Wa
gal
la . . .
Everybody Has a Heartache: A Blues
BY JOY HARJO
In the United terminal in Chicago at five on a Friday afternoon
The sky is breaking with rain and wind and all the flights
Are delayed forever. We will never get to where we are going . . .
Good Friday
BY MARIA MELENDEZ KELSON
Jesus, I want my sins back.
My prattle, pride, and private prices — 
climbing, clinching, clocking —  . . .
ICE Agents Storm My Porch
BY MARIA MELENDEZ KELSON
The Indiscriminate Citizenry of Earth
are out to arrest my sense of being a misfit.
“Open up!” they bellow,
hands quiet before my door
that’s only wind and juniper needles, anyway.

You can’t do it, I squeak from inside.
You can’t make me feel at home here
in this time of siege for me . . .
Tablets
BY DUNYA MIKHAIL
1


She pressed her ear against the shell: . . .
«1234»

Wasps' Nest
It was the fruit I wanted, not the nest.
The nest was hanging like the richest fruit
against the sun. I took the nest . . .

Conceit
She spun a line. She knew he was listening to her.
She spun it and he took the fraying ends.
Whatever she was saying, it was cotton, . . .

Notes for the Cactus Poem

The teddy bear cholla and the fat fat

. . .

Notes for the Cactus Poem
The teddy bear cholla and the fat fat

. . .

Inordinate Desires
He set out on the innocent exodus. He went at Easter
In a lengthening dawn, and he did not count the days.
He was young. With the wooden comb his mother made him . . .

First Thought
best thought, you had taught
me — a river runs through it,
the foot of the soul standing . . .

Stenciled Memories
There was always fabric in your lap
and a whistle in your heart. A sweet
sap to be ****** waited in the garden. . . .

Unused Baby
Unused baby blood and this is
how you motion with hands
clotty leaving . . .

Independence Day 2010
Can be cracked or am that       you didn't
consider me or I thought so
recovering in a nap     You took the 4th . . .

Night Work
All summer, the city engine's low
roar capsizes our bodies into sleep,
groans, . . .

If in America

If a tree falls in a forest,
does it make a sound?
. . .

Poetry Is a Sickness

You write not what you want,
but what flaws flower from rust
. . .

A Rhyme for Halloween
Tonight I light the candles of my eyes in the lee
And swing down this branch full of red leaves.
Yellow moon, skull and spine of the hare, . . .

At Twilight on the Road to Sogamoso
The sun is beginning to go down
over a field of yellow onions. The edges
of the clouds are almost pink, and at this hour . . .

[Grayscale breath on a fluid...]
Grayscale breath on a fluid
field, with lo-fi
                 rainpatter—petrol blue—, . . .